Where Dreams Become Nightmares
by Dreams or None
Summary: [1984 NoES-based] Mike finally found someone who might be able to help him and his sister Alex get rid of Freddy for good. But he just found out Alex made a deal with the Dream Demon. What next? Who's side is Alex on? -THE PLOT THICKENS! Please read, enjoy, and review.-
1. Every Time I Fall Asleep

The two thirty-something siblings appeared in the dreamworld, falling from ceiling to floor. Mike struck the floor with a loud thud; Alex bounced on an old mattress.

"OW!" She snarled, rolling away from the spring that poked sharply between her ribs.

"What a nice wakeup call," Mike snorted, getting to his feet.

He brushed himself off, taking a second to smooth his short hair. Mike had that blonde-hair-blue-eyes combo that Alex sometimes wished she'd inherited from her mother, and he maintained a powerful build like their father. Alex, in stark contrast, had long, wavy brown hair with matching dark eyes and a lanky frame. They were an odd pair.

They each took in their surroundings in silence. The decrepit house; the crumbling walls, the darkened bloodstains, the cobwebs, the shattered glass windows…

They recognized their environment instantly.

"What the hell are we doing here?" Mike snapped.

Alex didn't answer. She sat up at the edge of the bed, glancing at the light, a single bulb dangling from the ceiling on frayed wires, emitting a weak, wavering glow. Her eyes narrowed; the light grew brighter, steadier.

"That's better." She sighed.

"Well?" Mike asked after a pause. "Is he here?"

The question hardened Alex's expression. She already knew the answer, but delayed her response, sliding from the bed and drifting toward the doorway. Her fingers touched the deep knife marks cut into the old wood, and she felt a familiar malicious presence. Her hand recoiled as if stung.

"Yes." She replied, tone flat.

Mike seemed to take the bad news in stride. He cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders as if loosening up for a fight.

"We're gonna need some weapons."

He stuck his hand into his coat pocket and withdrew a handgun that hadn't been there a second ago. Alex hesitated, somewhat surprised by his enthusiasm, then reached into her sleeve and pulled out a silver dagger.

"Probably not the best choice." Mike commented.

"Then you get to go first." She challenged.

Shooting her a look, Mike joined her in the doorway and leaned out into the hall, scanning the shadows. He kept his gun poised and ready.

"Coast is clear. This way."

He moved out into the hall, walking toward the stairs. The old, decaying floors creaked beneath his steps, the only sounds in the otherwise quiet house.

Alex took a step to follow, but something held her in the room. She pushed against the force, but it grew noticeably stronger the more she fought. Letting out a breath, she stepped back, feeling release. After a pause, she moved forward more carefully, and the invisible force clung to her again, trying to pull her back.

_He wants to keep us separated. _She realized. She'd lost sight of Mike already.

"Mike!" She shouted.

"Down here!" He called from downstairs.

The force that was holding her released abruptly. She dashed forward and leaned over the balcony, letting out a semi-relieved sigh as soon as she saw her brother. He was standing in the front hall, gun pointed toward the darkened living room.

"Mike," She hissed more quietly, "Wait!"

"Quit freaking out…" He sounded slightly irritated.

He adjusted his grip on his gun, approaching the living room slowly. It was darker there, the shadows ominous. Alex felt a growing dread in her gut and realized she couldn't let him go any further. She grabbed the railing and swung herself over the balcony, leaping to the floor below.

Just as her feet hit the floor, Freddy lunged out of the darkness at Mike. Alex threw out her hand; time slowed, just enough for her to lock her fingers around Freddy's wrist. His blades snapped open inches from Mike's chest; he turned and caught Alex's shoulder with his bare hand. She spun and threw him into the wall with a force she could not have mustered in the real world. The wall cracked from the impact.

Freddy kicked Alex back powerfully, throwing her to the floor. She landed on her spine, head slamming against the floor, her weapon clattering out of reach.

"Playing rough already?" Freddy taunted, shaking a finger-blade at her.

She reached for her dagger as he approached.

BANG. BANG.

Two deafening gunshots echoed. Both bullets pierced Freddy's skull and burst out other side with dark blood and brain spatter. He collapsed beside Alex, blades striking the floor, fedora askew. Alex scrambled to her feet, staring at the seemingly dead Krueger. He wasn't moving…yet.

"Headshot!" Mike shouted, pumping his fist in the air in victory.

"Holy shit," Alex gasped, backing toward Mike. "Took you long enough."

"My speed was all fucked up. You do that?"

"Yeah."

She was catching her breath, trying to calm herself. She didn't take her eyes off Freddy, knowing he would be up again any second. She swore she'd already seen his bladed hand twitch, despite the dark pool of blood seeping from his head.

"Alex?"

Her brother's worried voice finally drew her eyes from the killer. Mike was fading away, returning to reality.

"Shit!" He swore just before he vanished.

Alex felt a mixture of relief and apprehension at her brother's disappearance. She was happy he'd escaped the nightmare so early, but now she was alone with a formidable, and likely very angry, monster.

"SON OF A BITCH!" Krueger roared.

_Yep, there he is._

She snapped her gaze to Freddy. The demon was standing, his bare hand clamped over his wounds, blood dripping down his face and neck. When his eyes locked on her, though, scarred lips twisted into a nasty smile.

"Alexandrea." His voice marked recognition.

Alex opened the fingers of her right hand, calling her dagger. It misdirected, flying at her abdomen instead of her palm. She jumped out of the way; the knife stabbed into the wall right where she'd stood a second before.

Freddy's bare hand shifted casually, adjusting the brim of his fedora. His wounds had vanished, as if they'd never been. His bladed hand flexed, knives shrieking against each other. His eerie smile stretched wider, showing his rotten teeth.

"Just wait till I get my hands on you." He sneered.

The room began to tilt, and though Alex started to slide, Freddy remained unfazed, defying the pull of gravity. Alex dashed along the wall as it started to become the floor, leaping through an open doorway only to find herself falling into blackness.

Stretching out her arms, feathers grew from her skin into wings and she began to feel weightless, gliding. This, too, was familiar: her reflexive weaving of dreams. Every element could change, bend, adapt in the most impossible ways.

She'd always enjoyed that aspect of dreaming…until he made it life or death.

She heard his laughter too late. His blades slashed into her left arm and her wing was crippled. He fell past, vanishing into the darkness, cackle echoing. Tucking her arms inward and pressing her hand over the wounds, Alex fell faster and faster. She squeezed her eyes shut, thinking of water.

Seconds later she splashed into dark water; the impact was shocking but at least it didn't break her. Surfacing, she gasped for air, then pressed her hand back over her wounds as she treaded water. She focused her energy; the pain dulled, the bloody cuts started to heal.

A hand grasped her ankle and she was jerked beneath the surface. She peered down through the murky water to see the murderer grinning at her, blades shimmering as they reached for her skin. She kicked his knife arm aside, her other leg flailing to free her ankle. She broke loose for a second, but he grabbed her wrist instead, pulling her deeper.

Her lungs were already crying for air as she struggled with him, catching hold of his gloved hand as he swiped for her again. His deep chuckle reverberated through the water as he kept dragging her down, down.

And she kept fighting, growing more frantic. The water became turbulent as if mimicking their struggle; the current pulled and swirled more violently until the two were yanked apart. She lost sight of him in the dark hurricane. Then the scenery changed; she was swept from the dark sea into a massive red-stained swimming pool that was draining toward the bottom.

She tumbled through the water until her body struck the cement floor of the pool. She rolled painfully to a stop in ankle-deep water that continued rushing toward the drain. She coughed, inhaled desperate breaths of air, then struggled to stand, hands and feet slipping on the slick floor.

Freddy loomed behind her; she dove aside just in time to avoid being slashed by his blades. His knives struck the cement, grating harshly, sending a spray of water into the air.

She again tried to get on her feet, slipping in the shallow, moving water. Freddy snatched the back of her shirt but only barely; she heard and felt the fabric rip as she tore away. Then a reddish wave of water crashed into her, knocking her back to him. He hooked his arm around her neck; pressing the tip of his index blade against her temple.

"I'm gonna put a hole in _your_ head…" He growled in her ear.

As she felt the blade starting to dig into her flesh, her right hand reached out, calling again for her weapon. Her dagger reappeared in her grasp, and she jammed it through the wrist of his gloved hand. He snarled, recoiling from her.

Taking advantage of his temporary weakness, she scrambled free, her hand instinctively clutching the side of her head, once again trying to lessen the pain, trying to heal. Staggering away, she turned to face him.

He stood frighteningly still, eyes on her. The water had all drained away, frothy sounds fading to soft dripping. The air grew thicker, steamy, like his boiler room; the colors ran an even darker red. His gaze never wavering, he took hold of the handle of her dagger, twisted it – it made a sick, fleshy, bone-scraping sound as it mangled his wrist – and tore it loose, splattering her with his dark blood.

Alex buckled forward as she vomited unwillingly, stomach acid spilling from her mouth and nose. Panting, she straightened, wiping a hand across her lips. It came away red with blood.

Freddy laughed harshly, delighted by her revulsion. Despite his brutal self-mutilation, he showed no evidence of pain, of any lingering damage. He closed his fingers around her dagger and the weapon turned to dust in his palm.

Alex took a step back and bumped against a wall. Freddy lunged, blindingly fast, but she again slowed time in her favor, using the spare seconds to crouch and leap upward. Despite the apparent impossibility of climbing, she grabbed the cement with both hands, willing herself to latch on. Her hands stuck, and she clambered up the wall like a lizard.

Freddy slammed both palms against the cement, right where she'd been a moment before. He looked disoriented if only for an instant, then his eyes shifted to follow her. He raked his blades against the concrete viciously, showing his annoyance.

Alex glanced down, watching him draw back from the wall, blades clicking rapidly. Her hand grasped the top edge; she started to hoist herself out of the pool, only to meet him again eye to eye. She froze. His face was inches from hers; his knives were poised beneath her jaw, dangerously close to her neck.

_Wake up_, She thought. _I have to wake up now._

"You're not going anywhere."

He smirked, pressing his blades to her jawline to turn her head, admiring his handiwork: the bleeding point in her skull she hadn't yet been able to heal.

"It's been too long." He murmured.

Her fingers loosened their grip on the cement; taking a chance, she twisted away from his knives and threw herself backward into the pool.

_Wake up wake up WAKE UP!_ Her mind screamed as she fell.

And she woke in her own bed, feeling burning in her throat, the searing pain of the bleeding wound at her temple, and the dampness of being drenched in water.

She jumped when her cell phone rang.


	2. I Hate Everything About You

Alex stared numbly at her ringing phone, the soft glow of the screen the only light in her dark room. She hadn't forgotten: Freddy liked to speak through electronic devices. Slowly her eyes focused enough to see Mike's name on the screen. Wiping her damp hands on her bed sheets, she snatched up the phone.

"Hey."

"About TIME you answered!" Mike practically shouted. She could hear the rush of traffic in the background. "I'm already halfway to your fucking place!"

"I'm awake now." She sat up slowly, touching her fingers to her bleeding temple.

"Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

Alex glanced at her blood-tipped fingers. "Uh….I probably need stiches."

"FUCK." He swore. "Sorry. Sorry. I'm just…that was bad."

She'd gotten up from bed, moving to the bathroom. Water dripped from her soaked form with each step; the wounds weren't the only part of the nightmare that carried over. She flicked on the light and stared at her reflection in the mirror: no one could miss the half-inch slash in her temple that was now leaking blood into her matted hair.

"I know." She sighed. "We just have to figure out what to do."

"I don't even know how you are not screaming your head off right now."

She tucked the phone against her shoulder, pulling open the top drawer to find her emergency kit. Fingers pulled out bandages, which she opened and pressed against the wound.

"I'm sure I will in a minute."

Truthfully she felt a sort of lingering high; the buzz of adrenaline pulsing violently through her blood, every fiber of her being on edge. She glared at herself in the mirror for a few seconds, furious at the wounded, water-laden girl she faced.

_Don't mess up like that again._

"Hey. Hey. Are you still there?" She heard Mike saying.

She redirected her attention back to her brother. "Yeah, sorry. How far are you?"

"Five minutes. And you better get some coffee ready."

"Talk to you in a bit."

She hung up the phone and dropped it on the counter, turning on the faucet to wash her hands. Streaks of red swirled down the drain. Fingers habitually rubbed the long scar that ran diagonally across her left palm. Water off. She grabbed a towel, patting her hands and hair dry as she headed back to the bedroom for a change of clothes.

**/ Later, in the Emergency Department /**

The hospital was in a bit of a lull this time of night. Alex could hear several muffled conversations, a few babies crying, monitoring devices softly beeping, but thankfully no one shouting or screaming or moaning in pain.

"Okay, all done." Her nurse said in a gentle voice.

Alex barely winced as the nurse pressed a fresh bandage over the stitched wound. It felt nice to have the area numbed, at least temporarily. Lidocaine was a magical thing. She watched as the nurse set down her stitching supplies and picked up a clipboard and pen.

"Could you explain again exactly how this happened?" The nurse asked.

"I told the doctor already…" Alex let a touch of annoyance into her voice. "Slipped and hit my head on the corner of the counter."

"And what were you doing in the kitchen in the middle of the night?"

"Getting a drink of water."

The nurse made a few quick notations on her clipboard. Alex read the woman's slightly disapproving frown; she knew it probably didn't look like she'd smashed her head against a counter; it looked like someone tried to force a knife through her skull. Nurses could tell, no matter how good you lied.

"Anything else you'd like to tell me?" The nurse offered.

"No. Can I go home?"

"Is your brother able to drive you and watch you for the next 24 hours?"

"Yes. Will you bring him back in please?"

"I can do that. We'll need to fill out your discharge paperwork and you'll be all set."

"Thanks."

Tucking her clipboard beneath her arm, the nurse stood and stepped out, swinging open the door. When she started to pull it shut behind her, Alex waved her hand urgently.

"Wait. Leave it open."

The nurse nodded. "Be back soon."

Dropping her hand, Alex started swinging her legs back and forth, tapping her fingers on the exam table, anything to keep her body in motion. _Stay awake._ The same internal mantra. Old habits fell back into place without any conscious effort.

Minutes ticked by on the clock above the doorway. She stared at the second hand, watching it click steadily forward. _Where the hell is Mike?_

The piercing wail of an ambulance approached. A team of doctors and nurses rushed past her room through the hallway. She could hear semi-organized shouting of the medical team and the incoming paramedics, then the sound of a stretcher being wheeled down the hall.

She glimpsed the body on the stretcher as the team raced past her door: a burn victim. A human-shaped mass of tortured flesh, muscle, bone, wrapped in clothing scorched black. The next second they were gone, running toward one of the trauma rooms.

Her heart started beating a little faster. She felt a sudden need to see that body up close. She eased herself down from the exam table, bare feet touching the cold, smooth floor. Slowly she moved to the doorway, peering out into the hall. Tiny flecks of blood dotted the floor; a path for her to follow.

She stepped out into the hall in time to see robed and masked doctors and nurses spilling out of the trauma room. She watched them remove their bloodstained gloves and gowns. One of the doctors shook his head as he pulled off his mask. Equipment discarded, the team dispersed quickly to other patients.

She scarcely noticed that the soft noise of the emergency room had faded to unnerving silence. She moved like a ghost down the hallway, stepping alongside the trail of blood drops.

At last she entered the trauma room. A bloodied sheet neatly covered the body, hiding its distorted form. Smears of blood and remnants of clothing scattered the floor. Alex began her approach, drifting closer despite her mind beginning to protest. She reached out, grasping the edge of the sheet.

One quick jerk of her hand threw back the sheet. The face and torso were exposed; at least what was left of them. A man burned so badly the skin and muscle had melted off parts of his body. She could see almost the entire right side of his jaw, white bone contrast against the mess of flesh and blood.

Alex dropped the sheet and took a step back, but could not tear her eyes away. No, it wasn't Freddy, but it was gruesome all the same. On that thought the sensation of the dreamscape settled in around her, and she took a deep breath.

"Krueger." She called, voice surprisingly level.

"I'm here." His guttural response echoed hauntingly.

One of the curtains across the room fluttered, and Freddy's shadow appeared there for an instant, then vanished. Alex turned sharply, anticipating he'd reappear behind her.

Something grabbed hold of her arm and she spun back around; the burned body had risen zombie-like, jaw cracked wide open with a groan, mangled hands clawing at her. She shrieked, tearing her arm away from its bloody, bony grip.

Stumbling from the room, she slammed the door behind her.

When her eyes readjusted to a dimmer, less sterile light, she saw the boiler room around her. Steam drifted into the air, hissing from boilers springing to fiery life. She heard the pattering of water dripping from leaking pipes, clinking chains swaying in the hot air.

She took a step forward, eyes darting around, searching for any sign that Freddy was nearby. A short distance away she heard the drawn-out shriek of blades against metal, and then she heard a young girl's shrill scream.

"Shit." She cursed aloud.

She took off running, feet clattering against the catwalks. Turned one corner, then another, spotting Freddy's shadow up ahead. A push of energy and she was there in a split second, swinging her fist with impossible speed and force.

Her manipulation didn't matter; her hand struck nothing but air. She recovered, straightening, both hands balled into fists. Her hospital gown had been forsaken for real clothing; thick jeans, a leather jacket, boots. Better defense when blades came into play.

One glance around and she spotted the girl. A little blonde 10-year-old crouched in a corner beneath a tangle of pipes, bright pink sweater and equally bright blue pants contrasting starkly with the ugly environment. The girl stared at Alex with wide, uncertain eyes.

Alex felt a moment of panic when she realized she recognized the girl. She'd been resting in her mother's lap in the lobby of the emergency room.

_It's your fault she's here. Get her out._

Knowing she had to work quickly, Alex knelt to get at eye level, and to make herself appear less intimidating. She softened her expression and smiled.

"Hey there." She greeted gently. "I'm Alex."

The girl, terrified out of her mind, withdrew even farther, pressing her back up against the wall. Alex paused, taking a second to re-check her surroundings, listening. Freddy was leaving them be, for now. She focused back on the girl.

"What's your name?"

The girl hesitated. "…Samantha."

"I'm here to help, Samantha." Alex explained, edging a bit closer. "This is only a dream. Do you know that? You're asleep. This is all a dream."

The girl stared at her disbelievingly. Then, "A bad dream?"

"Yes. Just a bad dream."

Alex kept talking in that slow, gentle tone as she drew closer to Samantha, inch by inch. She didn't want to press the girl, but time was short. Samantha's eyes darted around in a panic before finally settling on Alex's face, judging her, likely attempting to decipher whether she was another horrid illusion. Alex tried not to think about the terrors the girl may have already seen.

"Come with me." Alex held out her hand. "I'll protect you from him."

Samantha took a gasping breath, going pale. "He…"

Before the words left Samantha's mouth, Alex felt that dark presence hovering behind her, heard the rasping exhale, the click of blades by eager movements of a gloved hand. She spun, closing her fingers around his gloved wrist, forcing his arm back. He laughed even as she shoved him against the pipes.

"Too late." He sneered.

She was yanked upward by an invisible force, her hands tearing free of him. She tried to fight it; snatching hold of one of the pipes. She reached toward Samantha only to see that the girl had been slashed open from neck to abdomen, four long, deep wounds bleeding into her colorful clothes. Her eyes rolled back into her head as her body slumped.

Alex screamed as she was pulled free, spinning wildly into the air like a kite lost on the wind. Freddy's gleeful cackle overpowered the sounds from her own throat.

She awoke to Mike snatching hold of her arm. Their eyes met; his brow furrowed with worry. She glanced around; she was back in the emergency room, right where the nurse had left her moments before.

Down the hall, a mother and father screamed.


	3. Pain

Alex was sitting in the passenger seat of Mike's car, forehead pressed against the window. She watched the raindrops trickle down the glass, the streetlights flash by as they drove. She barely moved when Mike finally broke the silence.

"What happened back there?" He asked quietly.

"I fell asleep." _And I brought a girl into my dream and she's dead now._

Mike squeezed the steering wheel harshly. "It's not your fault."

"Yes it is." She replied through gritted teeth.

"No, it's mine."

She jerked her head toward him in surprise. "What?"

He paused, staring out the windshield as he drove. "I've been reading up on Fred Krueger."

"You've been WHAT!?" Her voice got shrill.

"Oh, now you freak out." He rolled his eyes. "Have you been watching the news?"

"No. Why?" She asked bluntly, sinking back against her seat.

"There've been stories popping up all over. I just happened to catch one a few months ago, and I've been tracking them since. Kids dying in their sleep."

"How do you know it's him?"

"It's his M.O.! Who the fuck else would it be?"

"I don't know." Alex mumbled, frustrated, rubbing her forehead which was starting to ache. "So you've been researching him?"

"Been trying to find out how to stop him."

"And?" She was a little hopeful that time.

"Haven't quite figured it out yet."

"Great." Her tone dropped back into bitter sarcasm.

"Look, all I know is, he's a pretty powerful demon, and he's still out there killing kids. We're two of a total of I dunno, maybe four people he hasn't killed, or come back to kill at some point, till now."

Alex stayed quiet, staring out at the rain, arms folded over her chest. Mike glanced at her briefly before his eyes went back to the road.

"Haven't you ever wondered why we survived?" He asked. "Why he disappeared?"

"I try not to think about it." She grumbled.

"We need to think about it now. He's on a rampage; tried attacking both of us, already hurt you. Probably knows what I've been up to."

Alex narrowed her eyes. _Who is this demon detective and what did he do with my little brother?_ "What…exactly…have you been up to?" She asked slowly.

Mike cringed at his sister's almost seething tone, running his fingers back through his hair, a nervous habit. "It's a long story."

"Yeah well, neither of us are getting sleep anytime soon, so..."

Mike sighed. "I've been talking to somebody who might be able to help."

Alex's eyes slid toward her brother, disbelieving. She sat up slowly, unfolding her arms, facing him. "Say again?"

"I've been talking with an expert, sort of. She's a clairvoyant and she knows a lot about demons." He was speaking quickly, hoping to convince his sister. "I think she can help us get rid of the bastard."

"How do you know she's not just making shit up?"

"I went on a job with her, saw what she can do. She's legit."

Alex stared at him for several seconds, letting it all sink in, then whistled low. "You better be right, or we're gonna have a lot of blood on our hands."

Mike nodded solemnly. "Yeah, I know."

Alex crossed her arms again. "Clairvoyant, huh?"

"Yeah, y'know, psychic or whatever."

"I know what it means." Alex grumbled. "And this is the first I'm hearing about all this because…?"

"I was hoping you wouldn't have to get involved…but Freddy dragged you in." He sighed heavily. "Stupid, I should've known that would happen." He paused, voice dropping a bit. "Plus it's not like you ever call."

Feeling a sudden, overwhelming sense of guilt, Alex turned away, staring out the passenger side window again. _I didn't want to get you involved, but you did that yourself._

"I'm sorry." She mumbled.

"Hey, water under the bridge now right?" He said more cheerfully, half-grinning. "Besides we make a good demon ass-kicking team."

That brought a small smile to her face. "True. So what's the plan?"

"Call off work this week. We're leaving tonight, driving straight there, no sleep."

"Damn." She reached for her phone. "Where are we going?"

"New Orleans."

**/ Hours Later /**

They'd stopped at a gas station to fill up the tank, stretch, and find something to eat. Mike was inside grabbing food; Alex was leaning against the driver's side of the car, puffing away at a cigarette. Something to keep her awake and occupied while she waited for her brother.

She felt a raindrop on her head, then another. Wait, wasn't she standing under the roof? Was it leaking? Her head tilted back, eyes upward.

Dangling from the station roof, ankles bound in old, rusted chains, was Samantha's limp body. Skin pale in death, bloodstains all over her once-bright, fiercely shredded clothes. Her eyes were carved out, part of her scalp was missing, and what remained of her hair ran red with trickling blood. Blood that, just a second ago, had dripped into Alex's hair.

"Dammit Krueger!" Alex shouted, fury spiking instantly.

"You called?" His deep voice snickered from behind her.

She whirled on him, shoving him back forcefully. He staggered, grasping a rail that appeared out of nowhere; they were in the boiler room.

Alex stomped toward him along the catwalk, raising a fist, but came to a quick halt when he lifted a blade as if to say 'one moment'.

"Let's talk, Alex." He smirked.

She growled, lowering her fist, turning away. "You promised you'd leave us alone."

"And I did…didn't I?" He hissed, dragging his blades across the rail as he drew closer, whispering in her ear, "Until that little brat started poking his nose where it doesn't belong."

She felt her whole body stiffen. _Oh, mother of all fucks, he knows._

"That's right. Why the fuck do you think I'm here?" He tapped her wounded temple sharply with a blade, and she grimaced. When he spoke again, he used Mike's voice: "_I think she can help us get rid of the bastard._"

She threw a hand back, shoving him away. He cackled, slamming his blades against a nearby boiler with a sharp metallic clang.

"He thinks he can get rid of me? Ignorant little shit. I'll tear him—"

She rounded on him, snatching fistfuls of his sweater in both hands, lifting him right off the ground and slamming him against the boiler, holding him at arm's length. A tremor ran through the pipes; the fires inside the boiler seemed to burn a little hotter.

"You won't touch him." She snarled.

He giggled, swiping his blades at her face with a single quick, vicious movement. She shrieked and released him, clasping her hands over her face, taking several steps back. The wounds healed swiftly and she dropped her hands, glaring at him.

"You've always been a little overprotective." He snickered.

He started toward her, blades resting across his chest. She could see her own blood coloring their edges, and flinched when she felt the pain in her face again, as if the wounds had re-opened. She touched her cheek, no, there was no blood.

"I'm guessing," He continued, tapping a blade against his shoulder. "You've been that way ever since the unfortunate death of your sister—"

Alex cut him off again, this time with a roar. It started out as a human sound, but deepened, twisted into something animalistic. Her body was transforming: teeth to fangs, fingers to massive black claws, bone structure rearranged to make her taller, stronger, fur sprouted. Half wolf, half human, a _Crinos_ beast. She took a heavy step closer to the relatively smaller Freddy, leaning forward and baring her new fangs at him.

"Watch your mouth, little monster," Her voice was a low, rumbling growl.

"Oooooh." Freddy grinned. "Someone's been practicing."

The monstrous thing Alex had become didn't intimidate him; in fact, it seemed he'd expected this sort of reaction from her. He snapped his blades away from his chest, then motioned eagerly for her to come at him.

She lunged; claws met blades, the sounds of battle echoing through the nightmare.

**/ Some vague dreamlike amount of time later /**

Alex lay half-curled on her side on the catwalk, trying to control her breathing, which was coming in and out in shaken gasps. She was human again; covered in various cuts, bruises, gashes, but the worst was her belly. Her hands were clutched to her abdomen, fingers trying to stop her blood from spilling. Her hands and feet were covered in blood, a mixture of her own red and the demon's black. _Most people would be dead by now. But you need to get up._

Freddy was panting, too, his harsh breaths weirdly louder than anything else in the nightmarish environment. He was impaled on twisted rails of the same catwalk, a short distance away. She'd done a considerable amount of damage: his ribs were poking out, his gloved arm was bent in two places it was not supposed to bend, his left hip looked dislocated, and his left hand was missing entirely. He grunted as he made his first attempt to free himself; black blood spurting from his chest.

"What's wrong, Krueger?" She called out hoarsely, managing to taunt despite her pain. "Can't handle me as an adult?"

He coughed, which turned into a barking laugh. "Please." He chuckled, twisting his body and pulling loose from the rails, falling to his knees on the catwalk. "Just been awhile since I've played with a dream weaver."

He'd used that term before; she remembered oddly. She shifted slightly, wincing as the pain in her abdomen worsened, and lay still again. _Just make the pain go away._ Then maybe she would feel less overwhelmed and be able to heal. It seemed like an impossible goal; each time she managed to numb the pain a little she had to breathe and it came rushing back.

Freddy, meanwhile, flexed the fingers of his regrown left hand and started pushing his broken ribs back into his chest, one by one. He did so almost indifferently, the rearranging of his body parts did him no physical harm, caused him no pain.

_Goddammit Alex. You shouldn't have played his game._

"But the game is fun!" Freddy answered her thoughts, laughing.

She tried to sit up, and not only felt another stab of pain, but a dizzying rush in her head that told her she'd lost too much blood to expect to move that easily. _Fuck. _She flopped back down against the catwalk, wheezing.

"Now who can't handle it?" He sneered.

Freddy gripped his right arm with his left hand, snapping the bones back into place in two easy cracks. His gloved fingers wiggled, blades tapping rapidly on the catwalk, and he got back to his feet, sauntering toward her.

"Mike's right." She managed to say, though her voice was weaker. "We're gonna get rid of you. And there's nothing you can do about it."

"Nothing, huh?"

He smirked, standing over her, lifting a boot and pressing his heel to her abdomen. She snarled, which escalated to a painful howl as she felt him crushing her hands into her bleeding stomach. Nothing like feeling like your intestines were going to fall out. He withdrew his foot, only to crouch beside her.

"Don't forget _your_ end of the deal. If you don't fix this, the next time your brother falls asleep…"

Blades came forward; he dragged their tips along the side of her neck, slicing into the skin. Fresh blood oozed free, and she ground her teeth to stop herself from screaming. He leaned over her, so close she felt his hot breath on her cheek.

"And he _will_ fall asleep. You all do, eventually." He rasped. "Understand?"

She let out a breath through her nostrils. "Yes."

"Good. Hmm…" His eyes trailed over her damaged body slowly. "Can't send you back like this now can I?"

She felt a rush of elation as the pain and wounds vanished all at once, and then she woke abruptly, head jerking upright, dropping her cigarette. It was like she'd just passed out for a second standing by the car, and the rest of the world was none the wiser.


	4. How Far We've Come

Alex slumped against the car until she recovered, taking slow, shallow breaths. Finally she regained her strength and straightened, glancing inside to see Mike waiting in line to pay. She pushed away from the car and walked inside, waving to Mike to get his attention, so he could see she was headed for the bathroom. _Protocol: always tell the other where you are or where you're going._

Mike nodded and she made a beeline straight for the restroom, shoving the door open and stepping into a stall, locking it shut. She pulled her phone from her purse, typed out an unknown number, and then started texting frantically.

Alright you motherfucker. One more and you leave him alone.

She chewed her lip furiously as she waited, tapping her foot. She jerked slightly when a response popped up on the screen, in bold red font.

**I'll leave him alone when he quits hunting me. You think you're getting away with one? You owe me at least four.**

You don't need four.

**I want four.**

That's not our agreement.

**I make the rules. You don't get to argue.**

Alex fumed, seriously considering throwing her phone at the concrete and smashing it to pieces. No, wait, bite him back instead.

You're needier than usual. Somebody must've really kicked your ass.

**Not as bad as I just kicked yours.**

Fuck you.

**Is that an invitation?**

She could practically hear Freddy laughing. Frustrated, she jammed her phone back into her purse and banged out of the stall, stopping at the sink to wash her hands. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and frowned at her disarrayed appearance, taking a few seconds to smooth her hair.

As she exited the bathroom she looked out to the car; she could see Mike in the driver's seat, hand on the steering wheel, head bobbing to music. She sighed, hearing her phone go off in her purse. She pulled it out to glance at the message.

**Bring me my souls.**

Her eyes shifted from the phone back to her brother. Deep breath. Poker face. She deleted the messages, dropped her phone back into her purse, and looked around.

Luck or misfortune would have it, there was a family with two children, a boy (maybe 5) and girl (maybe 3), waiting in line. The kids were fighting over a bag of candy, shrieking and squealing at each other. The brother pushed his sister to the floor and then mom interfered, snatching the candy away and scolding her son.

"Charlie! Don't push her like that! Rich, take Hannah back to the car please."

Hannah was bawling her little heart out. Her father scooped her up quickly; carrying her off, patting her back gently in an attempt to comfort her. The mother grabbed Charlie forcefully by the arm, giving him a little shake in warning; he pouted.

Alex stared at the scene for a minute, then turned away and walked briskly outside. Mike saw her coming and turned down the music as she opened the door and slid into her seat. She eyed the bag full of assorted snacks and energy drinks between them.

"Get enough shit?"

"Just the necessities." He chuckled, nodding to the bag. "Pick your poison."

She grabbed a Monster.

Mike selected a Red Bull for himself. "Bottom's up."

They downed the caffeine-fueled beverages like old pros.

**/ Hours Later /**

By the time they reached New Orleans, night had fallen again. The siblings were restless, running on a mixture of caffeine and sugar. Alex was driving now; they wove their way through the narrow streets between apartment buildings.

"What time is it?" Alex asked, her voice drained.

Mike checked his watch. "One thirty."

"Ugh."

"No sleep!" Mike crowed. "Twenty-four straight hours, boom. Only four hundred more to go."

Though Mike was running on some bizzaro sleep-deprived high, Alex's mood was sullied by the thought of future sleepless nights. She peered out the windshield as they pulled into the lot of the apartment complex; it was a colorful stone building with outdoor stairs and walkways, covered with flowering plants and greenery.

She parked and shut off the engine. Mike took out his phone to check for messages.

"She's waiting for us inside." He announced.

Mike hopped out of the car, eager to stand and stretch. Alex got out more slowly, fingers habitually reaching for her cigarettes, and as she pulled one out of the pack she realized her hands were trembling. _Oh yeah. Definitely overdid the caffeine._

"Really?" Mike's condescending tone brought her pause.

She leered at him a moment, then rolled her eyes and shoved the cig back into place, tucking the pack into her purse. He gave her a thumbs up, then moved to the trunk of the car; they grabbed their bags and headed up to the apartment together. Mike knocked sharply on the door.

"Come on in! Shoes off!" A woman's voice called from inside.

Mike turned the knob and pushed the door open. Alex stepped inside after him; they started pulling off their shoes as instructed. She immediately noticed the apartment was clean, modern – quite different the Voodoo lair she'd expected.

"Welcome, welcome!" The same bright voice greeted.

Trish stood from the couch as they entered the living room, brilliant smile flashing. She looked only a few years older than Alex; a beautiful woman of African descent, with dark skin, a tall, toned body, and short, curly hair. She was dressed for the warm weather: bright yellow T-shirt and torn jean shorts, bare feet. Alex noticed her fingernails and toenails were painted purple, and she wore gold bangles and dangling earrings.

Her pet Doberman was not so pleased to see them. He stood beside his owner and met Alex with a stern glare and a low warning growl. Trish's smile faded quickly.

"What's his problem?" Mike asked, wary.

"Jackson, quiet, sit." Trish commanded.

The animal silenced his growl and sat promptly as instructed, but his eyes remained on Alex.

"Jackson can sense things even before I do," Trish explained, her tone more serious as she focused on Alex. "That's why I gotta have him around."

By the look on the woman's face, Alex could tell the clairvoyant had seen something she didn't like. _Wonder what that could be._ Trish pursed her lips, studying Alex critically.

"Anything you'd like to share, Alex?" Trish asked.

Alex shrugged. "I'm not really a dog person?"

"Wow. This is going well." Mike inserted sarcastically. "We're all on the same team here, let's not get hostile."

"Your sister's hiding things, Mike." Trish said slowly, narrowing her eyes at Alex. "Our demon is close to you, isn't he?"

Mike's glance shot to Alex sharply. Alex inhaled, swallowed slightly, then met Trish's gaze and gave the faintest confirmatory nod.

"Oh giiiiirl..." Trish clucked her tongue disapprovingly.

"What…the fuck…Alex?" Mike almost stammered.

He was confused and angry, and he had every right to be. Alex could barely stand the look on his face; she pulled her fingers back through her hair harshly. Trish bowed her head forward, pinching the upper bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.

"Always bringing me a disaster and a half." Trish muttered.

Alex shot Mike a desperate glance, silently begging him to understand. Mike looked like he was about ready to punch something, shoulders tensed, hands curled into fists at his sides.

"I need another cigarette." Alex mumbled.

She went straight for the sliding door across the room; Jackson's eyes followed her as she stepped out onto the patio, shut the glass door behind her, and lit a cigarette.

"Trish, I didn't know." Mike said as soon as his sister was out of earshot. "I didn't fucking know."

"I know. I'm sure she never would have told you."

"But I should've realized…" Mike's shoulders slumped. "That's why she never questioned…" He sighed. "You got any beer?"

"Of course."

Mike followed Trish into the kitchen; she opened the fridge, pulled out two amber bottles, and handed one to him. He twisted off the top and took a long drink; Trish did the same. Mike slammed his bottle down on the counter, wiping his lips.

"Can you still help us?" He asked.

"Maybe." Trish considered, taking another swig. "If I can trust you. _Both_ of you."

There was a long pause.

"I can't believe she'd have anything to do with that crispy creeper." He growled. "Thought she knew better."

Trish couldn't help but snicker a little at his comment. "Most of us know better. But demons know how to manipulate people. I'm sure Freddy's no exception."

Mike squeezed the neck of the bottle in both hands. "We so need to kill this fucker."

"From what I hear, that's been done. Several times."

"Problem is he keeps coming back."

"Indeed." Trish paused, taking another sip of beer. ""That's why I think it's time to try a different approach."

Mike raised an eyebrow.

**/ Outside /**

Alone, Alex felt some measure of relief. Cigarettes were her crutch; the rhythmic breathing that came with smoking was soothing. The cool night air felt nice on her face; she closed her eyes, exhaling a toxic cloud into the air.

Then she heard the familiar clinking of metal finger-joints.

She opened her eyes; Freddy was resting on the lounge chair in front of her, hands folded neatly, blades tapping against the opposite wrist. His fedora cast a dark shadow over his eyes, but she could see his smirk.

Inside, Jackson, who'd sat quietly and obediently in the living room, jumped up onto all fours, ears pricked toward the patio.

Alex coughed, then blinked twice. She felt no sense of danger, no building rage; instead there was only the general unease of being in the presence of a dark being. She took another slow drag off her cigarette.

"Lovely." She muttered, breathing out smoke. "Here to gloat?"

"My ears were burning." He replied simply.

"What?" The colloquial phrase didn't quite register.

"They're talking about me in there." He clarified.

"So you're here to spy on us?"

He shrugged his shoulders. On him it was an odd gesture. The whole scenario was odd.

Alex glanced back inside the apartment, wondering if the others were aware of Freddy's presence. Mike and Trish were now seated at the kitchen table; they both glanced at her but seemed oblivious to her undead companion. Then she saw Jackson staring at Freddy. _Smart dog._ Alex turned back to the demon.

"Why can't she see you?"

He sat up, swinging is feet to the ground. "I'm not letting her. Not yet."

"Jackson sees you though."

"Yes…"

Freddy stood, walking toward the sliding doors. Alex winced as he pressed his blades there, dragging them across the glass with an earsplitting squeal. Neither Mike nor Trish seemed to notice; Jackson, on the other hand, started barking – or at least tried. Freddy held a finger to his lips, and no sound came from Jackson's jaws. Looking confused, Jackson stopped, licked his maw, and took several steps back, flattening his ears.

Freddy grinned, pulling his blades away from the glass with one last shriek, and the thin white lines he'd carved faded away like disappearing ink. Jackson seemed to grimace and sank to the floor, looking defeated. Freddy stuck out his tongue, snickering.

"You're such an asshole." Alex snorted, flicking away the butt of her used cigarette and pulling out a fresh one.

Before she got the new cig to her mouth, Freddy was right in front of her. He'd swiped the cigarette from her fingers and placed it between his own burnt lips.

"Watch the name-calling, bitch." He scolded. "Now light me."

She snatched the cigarette back. "Get your own."

They glared eye to eye. Well, almost. Freddy was actually about an inch shorter than tall, skinny Alex. For whatever reason he'd maintained his human form accurately, right down to the detail of his not-so-intimidating height. _Were all demons like that? Was it a choice? A curse?_

"Two." She growled. "Charlie and Hannah."

His lips pulled slowly into a black-stained grin, blue-grey eyes widening in excitement. She heard his blades flex at his side; her muscles twitched, but she held her ground, maintained eye contact.

"Now _leave_." She hissed.

Then Alex heard the door sliding open and turned to see Trish and Jackson standing there. Jackson glared around the patio, ears still pinned to his head.

"Ready to come back inside?" Trish asked.

Alex glanced back to Freddy; he'd disappeared. "I guess."

Trish motioned for Alex to follow as she stepped back into the apartment. Once Trish's back was turned, Alex let her eyes drift to the cigarette in her hand; there was a black smear where Freddy's lips had been, and she discarded it hastily. When she looked up she saw Jackson watching her, and he growled very, very softly.


End file.
